My Mumbling Thoughts

Let's talk about being alone. Or, more to the point, let's talk about being lonely.

Because my dear Internets, I've never been so lonely.

Almost two months since I've been back, and without much to do here, and not many people to hang with, I've been rather isolated. I only know two people here in VA now that I make the effort to hang out with and talk to on a regular basis. One of those people being my dear friend, Mendy. Everyone else that I used to work with or hang out with have long since disappeared, and I can't say that my life is any worse without them. I'm glad I don't speak to my old coworkers. I was a bad person with them. I wasn't who I am today.

Most of the time I spend my days reading, cruising the internet, watching the telly, or cleaning out some hole in the house. I have read more books these past two months than I read my entire three years at uni, which is sad to admit, and I've made more trips to our local Salvation Army to chuck out boxes of junk that we seem to collect. I get excited whenever Momma asks me to go to the grocery store for her and I wander up and down each aisle spending as much time there without being accused of shoplifting. I quit going on my walk/runs after the third day, because I'm lazy. There's not much else to that. And I'm constantly applying for jobs left and right with extremely slow results.

Aside from all of those stimulating activities, I sleep. I take my daily naps or I daydream of worst case scenarios that could happen to me while I'm at the house by myself. I like to torture myself and get myself all riled up about burglars breaking in and me having to call the police while hiding in Momma's closet. That would happen to me while I'm alone and have yet to take a shower. And at least it would be more exciting than sitting in my room deciding which pajamas I want to wear on that particular weekday.

I've accepted the fact that I'm here in Virginia now and I won't be going back to London for uni. In fact, I've discovered that my London memories are fading from the forefront of my mind rather quickly (too quickly for my liking) and now I only think about what I plan to do in the near future after I get a job. For instance I've decided I want to buy a dog. I love dogs and used to have the greatest little Pekingese named, John, and he was the perfect pet ever. My favorite pet really. So a dog we're buying in the next couple of months after we get the house ready with a new fence and such.

I've picked out which new car I want to buy next Christmas since mine is nearly ten years old and I'm ready for an upgrade. Hell, I've even started thinking about where I want to live in the next two years or so. Those future plans have started to show themselves in my brain and I'm ready to start thinking about them. What's next for Sammi Jo? What do I plan to be doing for the next five to ten years of my life? Where would I like to be? What would I like to be doing?

I know I've always seen myself writing and living in England, but that's no longer the be all, end all for me. If I find an opportunity that will lead me there again, then I'll probably take it, but I know it'll be a while before I can manage to live over there for the long-term. Until that day arrives I'll probably just be going over for holidays and have people come visit me over here. And I've accepted that fact surprisingly well. Maybe it's some kind of newfound adult that's rising from inside of me, but I know if someone would have said that to me even two years ago I would have thrown a massive tantrum and cried like a four-year-old. I prefer this new adult way a lot better.

Instead I've taken an interest in Human Resources. Before I left for university I used to assist our HR department and it was a lot of fun for me. I enjoyed planning/preparing the open houses, meeting the new employees and even handling all of the mundane paperwork. HR is where it starts for people and I know how hard it is for people to get that first step in the doorway (which is exactly what I'm going through now). I want to be able to help in any way that I can.

I've also been seriously doing some research on living in Texas. I don't know why that state all of a sudden appeals to me, but I wouldn't mind living there for a little while. The job scene is really good and it'd be nice to start out somewhere new again. I can't leave out the fact that one of the coolest bloggers I know lives down there as well. I mean, can we all just say FUN GALORE.

These are all plans, thoughts, ideas I've had. Without much else to occupy my time I've found that planning for the future is actually good for me, and a lot better than looking at a stranger's profile on facebook. I hope it all pans out according to plan, but as we all know life likes to throw wrenches into most ideas.

I hope something changes soon, though. This loneliness, this isolation, this never-ending waiting is crippling me.

Posted by Sam at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Me: "You know how they show those pictures of when we first walked on the moon?"

Mel: "Yeah."

Me: "It doesn't look real. How do they walk on the top like that? I mean, we don't walk on the top of Earth do we? Are we on the edge too?"

Mel: "It's a little thing we like to call gravity, Sam."

Me: "I don't get it."

Mel: "It just feels like we're upright, when really we're being pulled towards Earth's center."

Me: "So we're really standing like this?" (Tilts to the side at a 90 degree angle)

Mel: "Yeah, pretty much. You do know that Earth is round, right?"

Me: "I don't like it. I don't like it one bit."

Posted by Sam at 12:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I sent my CV to one of those places where they dissect it for a couple of days and then send you the results back for FREE! within two to three business days. I didn't really think that I would agree with anything they said, and I told myself that they tell everyone the same things so that you would inevitably buy the deluxe package where a professional writer re-writes your entire CV, plus a cover letter, you get to have direct contact with the writer and a guaranteed job within the following three weeks, all for the low and convenient price of $69.95 a month. I thought they were all a big hoax until I did actually receive my results and it was a two page breakdown of everything that was wrong with my CV.

I know you're not meant to take things personally when searching for a job, but I've now applied for over 30 different positions and the phone has yet to ring. I don't believe in all of that "poor economy" bullshit and think know that I deserve to have a job. I am a good worker goddammit, and I want a fucking job!

Of course it's that kind of thinking that has probably kept me down and unemployed, which is why Miranda's words struck a chord with me while punching me in the chest.

She begins her summary of my CV nice enough and even apologizes ahead of time for being blunt and harsh. She doesn't seem to believe in wasting any time and wants to make sure that I'm up and employed sooner rather than later. Then she just cuts right to the chase and it feels like she has taken dirty axe and swung it directly at my knees.

She tells me that I am a very qualified worker, however, I'm not memorable. If she were a recruiter looking over my resumé it simply says "cooked meat" rather than "sizzling grilled steak". My presentation is sloppy and not what she would expect from an experienced administrative assistant at my level and the thing that stings me the most is when she says I'm only a "doer" not an "achiever".

Thank you, Miranda, for making me feel smaller than I already am.

Needless to say I felt pretty bad afterwards. Is this how I've been representing myself all these years? With a cluttered CV that's just cooked meat? Do I not sizzle? Am I really not memorable? Am I only someone's bitch who doesn't want to strive to be anything more?

I decided to eat the rest of the rainbow sorbet in our freezer and go to bed, because I figured that's what underachievers do.

Yesterday I forced myself awake 6a.m. even though for once I wasn't woken up by my charming neighbors, who for some unknown reason feel it's necessary to keep the engine running for at least 30 minutes on their truck that is probably equal in size or larger than a hippopotamus every single morning. Even though I wanted to roll back over and sleep until ten, I got up, got changed into my "appropriate" walk/run wear (which is basically just pajamas that can be worn outside without instantly being recognized as pajamas) and went outside for my second walk/run exercise regime. I know it's only the second time that I've actually managed to go for my little walk/run, but already I feel like it's doing some good. It's not about me hating my body (okay, I hate my thighs), or even being healthier. It's just about me needing to get out of the house for a little bit, even if it's at the ass crack of dawn.

After my power walk, I took a shower, got ready and headed over to Target. I only had a few things I wanted to pick up and needed to get Miranda's stupid words out of my head. Who was she to tell me that I'm simply a doer. I achieve things when I really want to. I got myself to London for university, didn't I? And....I've done some other things after that as well.

I decided to buy a diary since the one my uni gave me ended at the beginning of July. I never did understand why anyone would hand out a diary that stops halfway through the year, but in any case I needed a new one. I don't know what it is, but keeping a diary on hand just makes me feel a lot calmer about all things in life, even if I don't really have that much to pencil in. I also bought my first bottle of SPF 30 sunscreen since I'm now obsessed with not getting skin cancer at any cost. I've decided I need to go to the dermatologist as soon as I get insurance because I want to have every single mole examined on my body, just in case it does turn out to be some kind of cancer. And I finally bought Heather McElhatton's book, Jennifer Johnson is sick of being single, which I've been eyeing ever since Lizzie was here and we perused the book aisle on one of our many Target trips.

Since I've gotten back home, I've been reading so much more than I ever did at uni. I guess I was too busy with going out and distracted by pointless drama to ever take the time to read an entire book, but there ya go. Now that I have all this free time, occasionally I close my laptop and pick up a book which is always a good feeling. I feel smarter whenever I do. Currently I have four on the go, because I tend to flip flop depending on what mood I'm in. I have one by Kazuo Ishiguro called Never Let Me Go about cloning people just for their organs in England. It's a really good book, but because I started reading it while I was at uni, I've yet to finish it and have to be in the mood for something "deep". I'm also reading an essay by Eric G. Wilson called Against Happiness: In praise of melancholy. I generally love reading essays (I don't know when that love developed), but the beginning of this one is hard for me to get into, so I only read it when I'm up for a challenge. And the other one is by David Ebershoff called, The 19th Wife wherein a sister wife shoots her polygamist husband and her son that she dumped on the side of the road in the middle of the night when he was only 13 years old now has to try and prove her innocence.

All very good reads, but it has been a while since a book as really clawed into me and forced me to read it cover to cover. That is until yesterday when I got a hold of Jennifer Johnson is sick of being single. I mean let's face it, I'm a girly girl who likes to read girly things. But I'm a dark and twisty girl, a la Meredith Grey, and I like my girly girl books to have a bit of a dark and twisty end.

[*** BREAK NOW BECAUSE I'M ABOUT TO SPOIL THE ENTIRE NOVEL IF YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO READ A GIRLY GIRL BOOK WITH A DARK AND TWISTY END ***]

First of all, Heather McElhatton wrote my life. I'm not even playing, the main character, Jen, is me. I've thought her exact thoughts and have been in the exact same positions. I mean, hell, she even STUDIED CREATIVE WRITING IN COLLEGE. She says it, right there in the book:

"Mrs. Biggles slinks in between my legs, purring. She knows I was going to be a real writer, but there were a lot of things I was going to do and then didn't. I'm lucky to have my job, because I didn't go to school for anything marketable. I studied creative writing because I wanted to travel the world and write deep, poignant novels that illuminated small but significant parts of the human condition that had heretofore not been uncovered or expressed so eloquently or with such graceful power."

I mean HELLO. THAT IS ME IS IT NOT? I have said those words I don't even know how many times! I've said those words to myself in my head, right here on this very blog, to my friends and family who care to listen. I'VE SAID THOSE EXACT WORDS.

Not only that, the book goes. It just grabs you and goes. You are literally shooting from one day to the next and it doesn't really stop. There aren't any chapters to slow you down, but rather three different sections that are roughly 90 pages each. Each day you follow Jen through her standard days at her job and the new relationship with her new boss and all of these new things keep happening to her. I mean, and all of these things had to happen to the author at some point in her life, because the details she gives, THE BRILLIANT DETAILS are so....detailed. Someone couldn't have just made it up. One of my favorite parts is when she's having a particularly bad day and she once again rips the words straight out of my brain and puts them in her book. Case in point:

"The next day at work Brad has still not responded to my e-mail and I'm in a ferocious mood. I accidentally knock someone's coat off the hanger when I'm hanging my parka up in the employee closet and I don't even pick it up. Instead I stare coldly at it on the floor and think, that's right, life's a bitch. You get knocked down and nobody picks you up, you just lie there in the dark, damp and alone."

ME! ME! ME! MY THOUGHTS!

But then, THEN you finally get to the end of the book. And you know what? JEN DOESN'T REALLY GET HER HAPPY ENDING. I mean, she kind of does, but it turns out her happy ending is more like a happy nightmare, and the man she was supposed to end up with (lovable Ted that makes her laugh) goes to her wedding where she married Brad, the rich Mama's boy who cheats on her with a stripper.

I WAS GOING TO WRITE THIS BOOK. Well, not this book exactly, but a similar version! My main heroine wasn't going to end up with any guy whatsoever, but I was going to leave it open-ended with a bit of hope that maybe something could happen in the future.

This is now straying and going way off what my intended point was.

[*** TO ALL THOSE WHO SKIPPED THE SPOILERS, YOU MAY NOW RETURN. I'M DONE RUINING THE BOOK FOR EVERYONE ***]

My point is, this is what I needed. I needed that reminder of why I love writing. Her book, Heather McElhatton's book, reminded me this is why I went to university in the first place to pursue creative writing. The words, the sentences, the structure, the flow, the quirkiness, the wit, the humor, all of it. That's why I wanted to write. University knocked a lot of love and passion out of me while I was there, but I picked up a few pointers over the three years, and can take that small amount of education for a big price and apply it to my love and passion for writing.

I want to write Heather McElhatton a letter to say thanks for writing this book, thanks for reminding me why I wanted to write stories too. Maybe we could get a brew together one day and I could dog-sit her pug for her.

But first I'm going to take this newfound writing energy and put it into my CV. Why pay another writer to re-write something that's about me? I'm just as good as they are and best of all, I know everything there is to know about me, so I'm already one step ahead of them all. I am a sizzling steak, thank you very much, and I won't have anyone tell me otherwise.

Posted by Sam at 12:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Recently I've felt like I need to be writing.

No, I haven't felt the need to write, really, but more like I should be writing. I should be writing something, yes? I just finished three years of studying Creative Writing. Shouldn't I start writing something now? I don't know what exactly, but something. I should definitely have something in the works.

The truth is, I don't. I don't have some kind of urge to write. I don't know if I want to write, if I miss writing, if it's something I want to continue to do. Not that I was even really "doing it" in the first place. More like I was pretending to be a writer these past three years and now my time of playing around is over.

This past month since I've been back, I actually felt relieved that I didn't have any kind of writing project haunting me at night, luring above my bed while I slept and taking over my subconscious. I've done nothing, to be quite honest, and it felt nice. At least it did for a while. I haven't been thinking about anything in particular, nothing too serious and have been perfectly content (if not occasionally bored) right here in the townhouse.

I have been slightly stressed about getting a job. That's probably the only thing that has been weighing on my mind, however, not too heavily. I've applied for roughly fifteen jobs now and am still waiting to hear from one HR lady (c'mon Caroline, seriously!). I'm not a religious/spiritual person, but I do have hope and believe that I'll hear something soon. Every weekday that passes by, I'm sure that the telephone will ring once and on the other line it'll be a recruiter asking if I have time to come in for an interview.

But now, now with this "I'm 30 credits short from graduating" development, I'm being forced to think once again and decide what it is I want to write. Or, decide what I have to write, because I don't really want to.

When you go to counseling (or when I went to counseling, I suppose), Maria always asked me at the start of our sessions how I was feeling.

"How are you feeling today, Samantha?"

"Mmm....fine, I guess."

"Fine? Are you feeling anything else?"

That was our routine until I would eventually tell her without much argument how I was really feeling.

Tired. Frustrated. Annoyed. Happy. Stressed out.

And then she would ask me why.

How am I feeling now?

I don't know. Honestly, I don't know. These days I don't really have feelings, I just have ... a blur. It's a strange description I guess, but that's how I feel. Like a blur. Like I'm not really here. Like everything I do is useless and pointless. Sometimes I'll have a high moment when I'm speaking to someone online, and other times I'll feel quite low when I start to let my mind wander off into the darker corners of my brain. I try to keep myself from staying in the dark places too long.

But otherwise I don't feel much. I get up, I sleep, I check my regular websites, I'll drink a glass of orange juice, I'll go back to sleep. It's fairly routine and mundane. Nothing special to report on. While I'm doing all of these non-tasks, though, I wait.

I wait for something to happen, for someone to call, for something to change. Because this new non-state of being I've found myself in is slowly eating away at myself, my personality, my life. Whatever light I had to bring into a room is slowly fading and I feel like I'm turning into one of those people who exist solely in their own minds, always with a glazed look in their eyes.

I'm supposed to think of another idea to write about, another proposal for my convener. I don't know what to write about. I can't seem to think of anything "outside the box" or even inside the box for that matter. I don't have the energy, the motivation, the flicker of excitement inside of me to give them another proposal. Another one.

Goddammit, why do they need two? Can't I just give them the one? Isn't that enough? They need me to drag two out of some small crevasse inside of me?

You know what that feels like? Impossible.

I don't want to write, and yet the only way I know how to express it all is by taking to the keyboard and literally spelling it all out. I hope this feeling passes soon.

Posted by Sam at 02:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Every day it's sunny here.

Every. Single. Day.

I can't escape it. I can try by closing the blinds and shutting the curtains, but that doesn't mean that the sunshine doesn't find a way inside. Or it doesn't mean that I can't still feel the heat in my bedroom roasting me underneath my sheets.

And because it's sunny every single day, I get annoyed that it never rains, or that it's never grey. There's no pleasing me when it comes to the weather.

Last night when I was briefly speaking to Momma before she went to sleep, I told her that it has been over a month since I've been back, and I've only gotten one stupid email from the stupid HR lady who seems to have disappeared and never responded back to me. Over a month I've been back!

She corrected me and told me that it hasn't been a month yet. I got back on the 11th of June. It'll be a month on Saturday and then I can start moaning about how it's been over a month.

It feels like it has been over a month though. It feels like I've been back three months. It feels like I'm really bored and if I don't get some kind of brain stimulation soon that requires me to leave the house every day and earn a paycheck, I might just go completely insane.

The house is different than the flat in many ways. I'm alone a lot more, sitting here trying to find ways to occupy my time. I'm pretty much broke and can't even afford to drive around in order to leave the house. It's too hot to walk anywhere (aside from the pool). Did I mention that I'm alone a lot more?

The transition from London back to Virginia has been okay. I don't want to say it was easy or effortless, because there were a couple of days when I couldn't even be bothered to leave my room to brush my teeth. I was consumed with my sadness as if it were the end of the world now and I had to figure out how to be this New Sam in my Old World. I found it hard to not be able to ring people up, walk down the corridor to the kitchen or to someone else's room and have a conversation with one of my friends. I looked out the window and instead of seeing people walking around campus, I saw trees, random animals and more suburbs.

Where was everyone?

Luckily, one of my friends from London came over to visit for about a week. It was amazing having Lizzie here in the house, if only because it was another human being I could talk to throughout the day and have someone be near. We had a nice combination of relaxing and exploring, and the nice thing was that we were both going through the same experience of transitioning from Uni Life back into Real Life. I could properly chat to her who knew everything from the past three years and it was comforting to know that I wasn't the only one feeling this way at this particular time.

It was also nice to be able to take her around my neck of the woods, and whilst everything was new to Lizzie, I was rediscovering my old life and realized that where I live doesn't suck as bad as I thought it did. True, it's no London with it's high streets, collection of foreign accents and a pub on every corner, but it does have it's own perks that I forgot I missed so much. Like, Chipotle.

Of course once Lizzie left to spend her remaining days in Washington D.C., I was bound to the house once again and left to my own devices for entertainment. I decided to start applying to jobs since Momma's "connection" at her job has still yet to respond to me after she got in contact about two weeks ago. Momma says that there's "still hope" and I should be hearing something "really soon," but I'm just so damn impatient.

I also found out this week that I'm 30 credits short from graduating. Hooray! That's what every unemployed student wants to hear. I can't even put on my CV that I have a BA yet, because I'm 30 CREDITS SHORT. I don't understand my university sometimes.

I thought that not graduating this month would be a lot harder for me to handle, but part of me already kind of knew that it was too good to be true. Something was going to happen and prevent me from getting the diploma, because that's just how my university life has been since day one. They weren't going to give it to me just like that. I'd have to suffer a little longer. It's just annoying if anything.

Because of my shortfall, I have to take an online module that is only 20 credits. My convener said she's going to try and see if The Board will waive the last ten credits, but if she can't then we'll have to find another way for me acquire the final ten. And my online assignment is another proposal that's due in by the end of November will monthly email check-ups by one of my lecturer or my convener.

This summer hasn't been peaches and cream, but it hasn't sucked entirely either I suppose. All I really want right now is a job. That's all I keep thinking about. And until then I'll just sleep. Maybe I'll even go back to the pool and sleep in the never ending sun.

Posted by Sam at 01:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)